


No such thing as luck

by zipadeea



Series: Teacher knows best [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Feelings, Gen, Heroes & Heroines, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, alarms are important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipadeea/pseuds/zipadeea
Summary: "It should piss Marinette off when she thinks about just how quickly her world ends.Instead, Marinette wonders what she would’ve done differently that morning if she knew it was the last time she’d see Adrien before he died."***After a late night akuma, Marinette and Adrien forget to set an alarm.Everything just spirals from there.





	1. "In my experience, there is no such thing as luck"

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all this all just came to me in the shower. I've outlined about 10 chapters and an epilogue as of now, hopefully updating every two weeks. I really hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> This is a sequel to my other two Miraculous Ladybug stories, which I recommend reading before this. I've watched up to the third season of the show on Netflix, but as of now I'm mostly taking the characters and doing what I think is cool with them, so this probably lands somewhere outside of cannon. Really hope this interests you and you enjoy! Please read and leave a comment if you like :)

It should piss Marinette off when she thinks about just how quickly the world ends. 

“Marinette! Ma cherie, it’s time for school, get up, get up, get up, you’re going to be--,” 

Maman finishes climbing the ladder to Marinette’s loft. She sees Marinette, eyes still heavy with sleep and hair a rat’s nest, wearing an oversized white t-shirt. She sees the Adrien, green eyes wide with shock, holding Marinette’s duvet up to cover his bare chest. 

“--late.” Maman finishes, face blank. She closes her mouth with an audible snap and slowly climbs back down the ladder. Marinette watches, heart in her throat as her mother wordlessly walks down the steps to the door, never once turning back. 

The door opens with a click before _slamming_ shut. 

“Merde.” Adrien’s voice is barely a whisper, still hoarse with sleep. 

“ _WHAT?!_ ” they hear Papa shout in the kitchen below. 

“ _Merde_ ,” Adrien moans. 

000 

There is a perfectly good reason why Adrien Agreste is shirtless in her bed on a Wednesday morning. 

That reason is Hawkmoth. 

Obviously. 

The texts from Alya come at exactly 2:48 AM. 

_AC: INCOMING_

_AC: BIG ASS SPARKLE MONSTER_

_AC:_ _Im_ _super tired so not_ _gonna_ _come unless_ _ya_ _need me but thought you should probs no_

_AC: *know_

_AC:_ _im_ _tired_

_AC: good luck babe_

After a long hour trying and failing to capture an akuma that literally keeps slipping through their fingers and covering everything in its wake with gaudy blue glitter, Adrien and Marinette fall through the skylight and land in a muddled heap on her bed. 

“Doesn’t Hawkmoth ever sleep?” Marinette mumbles into Adrien’s neck. Adrien runs his hand up and down Marinette’s back. At first, she thinks it’s sweet and comforting. 

Then Adrien holds his sparkle-slime covered fingers two inches from her nose. 

“Ugh, is that all over my back? Why is it still there if we cleansed the akuma?” 

Adrien shakes his head bemusedly, eyes closed, and sits up, dragging his t-shirt up over his head. Wordlessly, he holds the shirt out to her and drags a hand over his still closed eyes. Marinette gingerly pulls her own pajama shirt off, careful of the rogue slime. She grabs Adrien’s shirt and quickly puts it on, before stuffing the glitter-slime shirt under her bed and promising herself to remember to wash it when the sun rises. 

“It’s like a unicorn puked,” Adrien says with a grin, eyes barely slitted open. 

“More like unicorn boogers,” Marinette counters, flopping under the covers. “Where’d Tikki and Plagg go?” 

Adrien falls face down on Marinette’s pillows, one arm over his shoulder, thumb pointing vaguely toward Marinette’s childhood dollhouse in the corner, where Tikki and Plagg’s soft whistling snores she can now pinpoint. 

“Set the alarm for five,” Marinette mumbles. 

Adrien turns to the bedside table. There’s a vague clinking sound before he flips back and faces Marinette. 

“Good,” he says. “G’night, milady.” He kisses her nose. 

“Night, chaton.” 

000 

The lack of pounding footsteps up the stairs finally breaks Marinette out of her trance. 

“You said you set the alarm,” Marinette whispers, dread pooling in her gut. 

Adrien’s green eyes grow even wider. “I thought you said you did!” 

“Why didn’t you two wake us?” Marinette spits at the dollhouse, where their kwamis are cowering, rounded black and red heads barely peeking over the windowsill. 

“Sorry, Marinette and Adrien, we’re so sorry--,” 

“We were tired too, y’know, you’re not the only ones working extra hours--,” 

“I didn’t hear--,” 

Marinette holds up her hands and closes her eyes. Everyone grows immediately silent. She takes a deep breath. The oversized neck of Adrien’s shirt slides down her shoulder. 

She picks up one of her pillows and screams into it. 

Adrien puts his hand on the shoulder still covered by his shirt. 

“Marinette?” 

Marinette slowly opens her eyes. “You should go. I’ll meet you at school,” she finally says, indicating the window letting in sunbeams and the false promises of beautiful new days and hope. 

_If I’m still alive by then_ , she thinks. 

But she keeps that thought to herself. 

Adrien snorts. The sound is so shocking it drags Marinette’s eyes away from the revolting rays of light streaming onto her bed. 

“What?” 

“I’m not leaving through the window. I’m no coward, Marinette.” 

Adrien is chewing on his lip, left hand repeatedly picking at the edge of the duvet. 

But his eyes are hard, decided. 

Stupid cat. 

“The fact that you used ‘coward’ instead of ‘scaredy cat’ really alarms me,” Marinette finally says, and Adrien’s lips quirk up in a grin. 

“Give me my shirt back, I don’t want to give your father any more reasons to kill me.” 

Marinette shakes her head. “It’s Maman you need to keep your eyes on.” 

000 

“Did you at least use protection?” 

Marinette _really_ wishes Adrien just climbed out the window when he had the chance. 

“PAPA!” She groans, face so hot she thinks it must be close to just melting off. “We didn’t--he, we—we were sleeping, not—nothing happened, we were studying and we were tired and--,” 

“So, Adrien came over to study after we went to bed?” Maman asks, eyebrows disappearing into her hair. 

“Um, yes ma’am. I’m very sorry,” Adrien responds, head down, the perfect picture of contrition. “I promise it won’t happen again.” 

“Obviously it won’t happen again, I’m much more interested in why it happened in the first place. I’m also very interested to know just why Marinette was wearing your shirt this morning--,” 

“You were wearing his _shirt?_ \--,” 

“--and whether or not Adrien’s dear father knows where his only child has been all night--,” 

“--that shirt? The one Adrien is wearing right now? Then what was he?--,” 

“And--,” 

“SCHOOL!” Marinette finally yelps. “Adrien needs to go home and change, and we both need to go to school and learn and grow,” _and get the hell out of this house._

“This is not over Marinette Elise!” Maman shouts as Marinette rushes a stunned Adrien out the door. “You will be back here at lunch and we will be discussing this. And you’re grounded. You're so ground--,” 

The door closes behind them with a _thunk_. 

“Honestly, that went much better than I expected.” 

Adrien lets out a surprised laugh, looks back hurriedly at the windows of the bakery before pulling her into a quick hug and kissing her cheek. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t set the alarm,” he whispers. 

She leans back, looks him in the eye. “I’m sorry, too. It’s not all your fault, Adrien.” 

He grins and pulls her into another hug before looking both ways and sprinting across the street. Marinette squints, and notices Plagg waving at her from the pocket of Adrien’s gray joggers. 

“See you at school!” Adrien calls over his shoulder as he runs, pretty golden hair bouncing with the motion. 

Marinette waves back and looks down at Tikki, hiding in her blazer collar. 

“Guess our luck ran out this morning, huh, Tikki?” 

Tikki pats her shoulder fondly, as they watch Adrien run. “There’s no such thing as luck, Marinette.” 

000 

It should piss Marinette off when she thinks about just how quickly her world ends. 

Instead, Marinette wonders what she would’ve done differently that morning if she knew it was the last time she’d see Adrien before he died. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you intrigued? Also, just thank you to everyone who read and or left kudos and or commented on my other two Miraculous Ladybug stories. You're amazing. 
> 
> Guess what, guys? This one actually has a plot!? new for me, but should be fun. Hope you like it!


	2. "Your eyes can deceive you; don’t trust them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks so much for all the comments and responses on the last chapter. Saw some good theories! Are they correct? I guess you'll have to keep reading :)

Marinette arrives at school on time that day, which means she’s basically early. 

“Move your head, girl,” Alya says as Marinette slides into her seat beside her. Alya stands and forces Marinette’s head down to the desk as she stares exaggeratedly out the window. “Pigs must be flying if Marinette Dupain-Cheng made it to class on time.” 

Marinette just rolls her eyes before sighing and resting her head in her hands. 

Alya releases Marinette and slumps back in her seat, eyes thoughtful. “What happened? I thought the akuma went alright last night.” 

Marinette shakes her head, still hidden from view by her hands. God, she’s just...tired. She’s tired of things being so difficult. “The akuma was fine. Kind of gross but fine. Maman finding Adrien in my bed this morning—not so fine.” 

Marinette stays in her hunch, waiting for Alya’s inevitable laughter. 

To her best friend’s eternal credit, the laughter never comes. 

“Fuck,” Alya says with a whistle, before resting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “That sucks, Mari. I thought it was bad when Nino’s dad caught us making out while we were doing ‘homework’ last month. This morning must’ve been awful. Are your parents mad?” 

Marinette snorts and finally finds it in herself to meet her friend’s eye. “Obviously. Didn’t have much time to discuss it this morning though, since I didn’t want to be late for school.” Alya finally can’t help but laugh at that. 

“Maman says I have to go home for lunch, talk about it then.” Marinette looks around at the rest of her peers getting ready for class before leaning in to whisper, “Honestly, I think this is the first time I’m actually wishing for an akuma.” 

Alya just chuckles. “Don’t say that, Mari. Hawkmoth will just get you next and we’ll all be in deep shit then.” 

Marinette finally grins. As long as she has Alya to keep her laughing, Hawkmoth will never be able to touch her. 

000 

“Alright, class,” Ms. Bustier announces, after walking through the door. “I know Nino has a dentist appointment this morning, so he’ll be out, but does anyone know where Adrien is?” Ms. Bustier ends the question with a pointed look at Marinette. 

Her blush could probably fry an egg at this point. 

Marinette shrugs helplessly at her teacher, hoping it conveys her message that he’s alive and I’m eternally embarrassed because my parents caught us in bed together this morning and oh by the way, Adrien still had to run home and gather a change of clothes because we’re both sleep-deprived idiots who don’t set alarms and that’s most likely why he’s late. 

“He probably had a photo shoot, Ms. Bustier,” Chloe pipes up. “Adrikins is in very high demand right now.” 

Marinette shrugs again and shakes her head, and Ms. Bustier gives her a soft smile. 

“Well, alright then. Hopefully his father remembers to call into the office next time. Everyone please put away your copies of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ , we’ll be having a pop quiz this morning on chapter sixty-three through sixty-seven. I hope for all your sakes you’ve done the reading....” 

Ms. Bustier grins, and life moves on. 

000 

At least, it would, if Marinette weren’t so worried about Adrien. 

_MDC: Where are you?_

_MDC: Is your dad mad?_

_MDC: you missed a pop quiz_

_MDC: I’m sorry_

_MDC: Are you mad at me?_

_MDC_ _: ???????_

Adrien doesn’t show up for Literature or History. He misses Art and Algebra, and fails to respond to any of Marinette’s text messages. 

There’s a horrible feeling growing in the bottom of Marinette’s gut, a roiling mass of anxiety and dread that just doubles with every passing moment without a response. 

“Do you think he’s mad at you?” Alya asks as they sit in art class, sketching the bowl of fake fruit before them. 

“I don’t know,” Marinette says, biting on the end of her pencil until Alya’s gentle hand shoves it away from her mouth. “I didn’t think so. We both apologized to each other before he left his morning. Maybe he got in trouble with his dad?” 

“That’s probably it, Marinette. I know we joke, but his dad does care about him. I mean, I think he does. I’m sure Adrien’s just getting a cringeworthy lecture about not sneaking out at night and being shown how to put condoms on a banana.” 

Marinette chokes on her spit. “Christ, Alya.” 

“What, it’s true!” 

000 

When the bell rings for lunch, Rose asks if Marinette and Alya would like to join her and Juleka at a café nearby. 

“Sorry,” Marinette grimaces, “I have to go home today. Maybe some other time.” Alya just pats her shoulder and nods grimly before following Rose around the corner. 

“Text me!” She calls back. Marinette waves, then continues her painful, solitary walk to her doom. 

“It won’t be so bad,” Tikki whispers from her perch in Marinette’s bag, blue eyes honest and wide. “Your parents love you, Marinette. All they want is for you to be safe and happy.” 

“I know,” Marinette groans. “That’s why it’s so hard when I disappoint them. 

For the second time that day, Marinette desperately wishes an akuma would just appear, forcing her to completely abandon her most immediate fears and focus entirely on something else. Of course, this doesn’t happen because Hawkmoth is absolutely the most inconvenient person on the planet. 

Marinette catches herself unconsciously slowing down her steps to make the trip home longer, to the point that she nearly doesn’t make it across the street during the light. A helpful passerby pulls her harshly out of the path of a car zipping around the street corner. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, you gotta watch it! There are some crazies ’round here.” 

Marinette mumbles her thanks, heart thundering in her chest, before jogging the rest of the way home and bursting through the back door of the bakery. She's hoping to sprint up to the apartment while Maman and Papa are still working and avoid the inevitable confrontation for at least a few more minutes when a familiar hand grabs her upper arm. 

“Sit, cherie. We need to talk.” 

Marinette turns to see her father behind her. There’s flour spread on the ends of his nose and part of his cheek, his whole face flushed a familiar rosy red from the heat of the ovens. The hand still on her arm is warm and calloused, gentle in its touch as it guides her to the tiny lone chairs and table set shoved haphazardly into the corner of their kitchen. 

Marinette sits. Her palms sweat, throat beginning to swell with shame as she watches her father do the same. 

Papa takes a deep breath before leaning slightly forward, hands folded on the table. “Marinette, I’m not—I'm not angry with you. I know I must seem ancient to you, but I do remember being sixteen. I remember every little thing feeling like the end of the world. 

“If you say nothing happened between you and Adrien last night, then nothing happened. I trust you, and I know you have a good head on your shoulders. I suppose it’s just,” Papa sighs, and runs a tired hand through his hair, “It’s a beautiful thing to watch your child grow, Marinette. It has been the most amazing privilege to watch you learn what you like and dislike, to develop your own wonderful personality. To really become your own person. 

“But you’ll always be my baby,” Papa adds ruefully, “And for as great a miracle as it is to watch you grow, sometimes it’s a bit...difficult to think about everything that entails. But I do understand. And I do trust you. I just--I hope you trust me and your mother, too. I hope you know, no matter what you do or how old you get, we will always help you. We will always love you. 

“And if this thing with Adrien ever turns into...” Papa gulps, “...something, please just be smart. I don’t want you to hide things from us. I don’t want you to feel ashamed, Marinette, not ever. I hope you feel comfortable talking to us about anything, ma cherie.” 

The speech has obviously been rehearsed, repeatedly, probably since the moment Marinette left for school this morning. Papa’s execution is flawless, and his eyes so big and honest and wide that the lump in Marinette’s throat has grown so much speaking is nearly impossible. 

It’s a good thing, she thinks. Without the lump, the confession probably would have tumbled out of her mouth without another thought: 

_I am Ladybug._

Papa would understand. Papa would be proud of her. Papa just said, no matter what happens, no matter what she does, he will always love her, will always want to help her. 

But, as the lump disappears, Marinette remembers that horrible Sunday morning after Javelot. She remembers the news reports, and Maman’s tears and Papa’s awful, haunted look as he watched day old video footage of Marinette being impaled by the javelin. 

Papa will always love her, but he won’t help her with this. 

He would stop her, and Hawkmoth would finally win. 

It’s better this way. 

“I understand, Papa,” she finally says, soft grin on her face. “Thank you.” 

Papa stands and pulls her into a hug, spins her around like her always does and presses a soft kiss to the crown of her head. 

“I’ve been told to tell you Maman and I drew straws.” Papa says and he sets her back on the ground. “I got to be the good cop this morning. Maman is waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Oh, _no_ ,” Marinette groans. 

“Just you wait,” Papa says ominously as he points to the door, sheepish grin on his face. 

000 

Marinette trudges up the stairs, trying and failing to decide whether or not it was kind of her parents to play the ‘good cop’ card first. 

“There you are, darling,” Maman says sweetly from her seat on the couch as Marinette enters the apartment. “Say hello to our guest.” The stained pajama shirt covered in now-hardened royal blue glitter-slime Marinette had hidden under the bed sits on the coffee table before her. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Gabriel Agreste murmurs with his trademark smirk firmly in place, cane settled comfortably at his side. “I understand you had a rather.... _interesting_ time with my son last night.” 

Gabriel Agreste’s gaze is icy and blue and calculating, nothing at all like Adrien’s. His eyes never leave her face as she walks into the room and rigidly sits next to her mother, heart in her throat. “Hello, Mr. Agreste.” 

It takes her far too long to realize the man isn’t looking her in the eye, though. 

He’s looking at her ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh DUHHHHH
> 
> Lol, so yeah, this was kinda a filler chapter, but i promise from here it'll really take off.


	3. "I sense much fear in you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are gonna yell at me after this one. Also, i changed the tags on this story.

“So, how angry is your father going to be?” Plagg asks conversationally, still munching thoughtfully on a bit of cheese bun in Adrien’s pocket. 

Adrien snorts and pulls the kwami out once they’re both safely hidden in the alley. “I doubt Pere’s even noticed I’m gone. C’mon, we’ve got to get back quickly or I’ll be late for school.” 

Plagg scrunches up his nose. “Do you really have to go to school? That place is so _boring._ I’m five thousand years old, Adrien, I know everything you could ever possibly hope to know, and when you’re Chat Noir you know it, too. What’s the point?” 

“Who says I’ll be Chat forever, mon ami?” Adrien says wryly, causing Plagg to huff. “Besides, it’s school or photo shoots, take your pick.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, whatever. Say the words, boss-man, if you’re really that worried about getting to school on time.” 

Adrien grins and pats Plagg’s head fondly. The kwami sticks out his tongue and makes a show of shoving Adrien’s hand away, but he knows Plagg is pleased. He’s secretly an affectionate little thing who would have absolutely no trouble slitting the throat of anyone who dared admit it out loud. 

“Plagg, claws out!” 

Adrien leans his head back as he feels the familiar burst of strength wash over him. The world is suddenly warm and bright and green green green. With a flick to his head he can hear bartering at the shop around the corner, the baby just waking in the apartment down the street, the birds flapping their wings across the sky above. The happy swish of his tail against his legs makes Chat grin, and as he grips his baton firmly in his hand, the anxiety and exhaustion of the morning finally just dissolve away. 

Adrien may joke about it, but he knows he can’t do this forever. He will not always be Chat Noir. But this happiness, this strength and assurance of good—it will be a difficult thing to relinquish, even if that day is years away. 

For as many troubles as it may sometimes cause, the world is always easier as Chat Noir. 

000 

_“At first, I was most troubled at finding them together this morning,”_ Sabine Cheng explains, _“But then, I found the shirt under Marinette’s bed. Based on the news reports, I think this....goop,”_ Sabine says, disgust evident in her voice, _“came from the_ _akuma_ _last night. I think Marinette and Adrien are sneaking out, probably with Alya_ _Cesaire_ _as well to track and film these_ _akumas_ _.”_

Gabriel, who has been slumped at his desk, impatiently awaiting his coffee after Nathalie forced him to take the irate Ms. Cheng’s call, finds his interest piqued. 

“Surely not,” Gabriel says, doing his best to sound properly scandalized. “It’s so dangerous--,” 

_“I know!”_ Sabine agrees, _“I’d almost rather they be sleeping together. These ridiculous_ _akumas_ _are out of control, and Marinette’s just treating it like a game. This isn’t the first time she’s sneaked out at night during an attack.”_

“Oh?” Nathalie finally arrives, coffee in hand. Gabriel snatches it before shooing her away. 

_“Yes, after Javelot, Marinette admitted she’d been out that night, too. She went and had to watch when Ladybug was hurt. It traumatized her for weeks afterward, she had terrible nightmares, couldn’t hardly watch when they kept playing the clip on the news. That’s not to say anything about the akumas from Marinette and Adrien’s class alone! Even their teacher--,”_

But Gabriel is no longer paying attention. 

He’s staring at the coffee mug that has dropped to the floor, staring at the brown liquid slowly seeping, overtaking the once immaculately white rug. 

Gabriel has known for a while now that his son is Chat Noir. 

He absolutely did not know his son was romantically involved with his classmate, apparently for months already, according to Ms. Cheng. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The stuttering, blushing girl with the pigtails. The teenager who won his bowler hat competition. 

The tiny girl with the big blue eyes. 

_“--I really think we need to sit down and talk with both of them--,”_

“Yes,” Gabriel agrees, eyes still on the spilled coffee. “I agree. I’ll be over as soon as I can. Conversations like this are most impactful face to face, oui?” 

Gabriel blinks, and suddenly the coffee is blood on the street, and big blue blue eyes from behind the mask are staring into his soul, full of hate and pain and grief before being whisked away and-- 

Gabriel blinks again and the coffee is back. The rug is white. 

His son is Chat Noir. 

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug. 

000 

“Claws in,” Adrien whispers, before hauling himself up and over the garden wall. He feels Plagg snuggle himself comfortably back in his pocket as Adrien sneaks around the rose bushes. 

“Bonjour ma soeur,” Adrien says softly, pressing a kiss to his fingers before swiping is across the top of the familiar headstone. The breeze picks up beyond the wall, waving the roses gently in a morning dance. Adrien rises from his crouch and sprints to the large oak tree, quickly scrambling up the branches before swinging himself into the open window. 

His room is just as he left it; bed rumpled from what little sleep he did get last night; half-finished homework sprawled across his desk; the last two bites of Plagg’s cheese unwrapped on his bedside table, odor unpleasantly wafting to the entire room. 

7:47 AM, the digital clock on his dresser proclaims. 

He has exactly thirteen minutes to make it to homeroom. 

With a sigh, Adrien digs a change of clothes out of his closet and runs to the bathroom. 

000 

At 7:52 AM, Adrien exits the bathroom, hair still dripping, clean clothes on, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he runs to gather his books together. Eight minutes. He still has eight full minutes until he’s officially late. At this rate he won’t make it on time to school, but he won’t be too tardy, he should still be there for most of Ms. Bustier’s class, which is good, she was hinting about having a pop quiz today-- 

“Adrien.” Nathalie says, clearing her throat while standing in his now opened doorway. 

He didn’t even hear her knock. Nathalie always knocks. 

“Adrien,” she begins again, “Your father needs to speak with you after breakfast.” 

So much for making Ms. Bustier’s class. 

000 

Adrien trudges down the steps behind Nathalie, the urgency of the last fifteen minutes unexpectedly washed away. 

Does Pere know he was out last night? Does he know Adrien was at Marinette’s? How did Pere even find out, did Nathalie tell him? Did the cameras catch him last night, Adrien’s usually so careful-- 

“Breakfast first,” Nathalie reminds him, shoving Adrien gently in front of her, toward the long, empty table, one lonely place setting at the head. 

Adrien rolls his eyes. “I’m already late, Nathalie. I’ll just go talk to Pere now and grab something to eat on my--,” 

“Breakfast now,” Nathalie says firmly, the hand on his shoulder tightening. Adrien frowns. 

“Fine, fine,” he mumbles, slumping into the chair. He half-heartedly scoops out his oatmeal, stabs at the fruit before him, and makes to stand when most of the food is gone just a few minutes later. 

“Drink your juice,” Nathalie calls out behind him, typing away on her phone, causing Adrien to roll his eyes once again. Nathalie is being such a _nag_ today. It’s very unlike his father’s normally quiet and understanding assistant. 

With a sigh, Adrien grabs the large glass of orange juice, knocking back half the glass with one gulp. It tastes chalky after the oatmeal and has too much pulp for Adrien’s liking, but he’s tired of Nathalie treating him like a child this morning. He swigs the rest of the juice down in a few seconds. 

Then, the glass falls from his lax hands and shatters on the marble floor. 

Something is wrong. 

Something is _wrong._

Adrien slumps to the ground, his muscles, his entire body, completely out of his control. He lands painfully on top of the glass scattered across the floor, feels as the pieces slice up his left arm, his back, his hips. His head lands at an angle, limp neck cradled awkwardly against the leg of the chair. 

The world is blurry and swirly and terrifying and red and-- 

There’s pinch on the side of his leg. His pocket. _Plagg_. 

“Claws--,” Adrien gasps, before Nathalie’s gentle hand covers his mouth. 

“ _Hush_.” The word is drawn out like the hissing of a snake. Nathalie removes her hand, and with it comes a long, glowing thread of gold. Nathalie gathers the thread and cups it in her hands, before settling in on her phone where it dissolves. 

“Claws out!” Adrien mouths. Claws out claws out _claws out_. 

Akuma, Adrien finally realizes. Nathalie is an akuma. 

And she’s stolen his voice. 

Adrien feels Plagg finally slipping out of his pocket, preparing to take matters into his own hands and save the day, when Nathalie, without any pomp, circumstance, or ceremony, quietly slips the ring off Adrien’s finger and places it on her own. 

With one final swear, Plagg is sucked away from Adrien’s pocket and straight into the ring. 

Part of Adrien expects that Marinette is about to come swooping in. She’ll come and save him, she always does, she always, always, does, his very own knight in spotted armor. His lady will come sweep him away, brush the glass off and tell him what an idiot he is. Then she’ll pull him into a crushing hug and together they’ll defeat-- 

“Well done, Hush,” a new, echoey voice says. Hush leans forward and gently drags Adrien away from the chair and the broken glass, settling him flat on the ground. She stands finally, and removes the ring, only to offer it up to the newest arrival, clad in purple and black, face entirely covered by a menacing silver mask. 

Hawkmoth. 

Hawkmoth has found him. 

Strong, thin arms force themselves under Adrien’s shoulders and knees and pick him up. His lax head leans into the shoulder covered in hard, purple leather. Adrien’s head swims with the movement, and he shuts his eyes, suddenly terrified at the very real prospect of choking on his own vomit. Hawkmoth carries him steadily along the empty corridors, Hush trailing obediently behind him, before stopping suddenly. 

Adrien opens his eyes to see his father’s study. Wide and airy, immaculate as usual. Adrien forces himself the scan the room for his father, half of him praying that he won’t see his body, strewn lifelessly across the floor. 

The other half of him prays that he does. 

Because _Hawkmoth_ uses a cane. 

_Hawkmoth_ is in his house. 

_Hawkmoth_ just akumatized his father’s assistant. 

_Hawkmoth_ is opening a secret elevator before a portrait of his mother. 

_Pere._ Adrien’s lips form the word, but he is silent. _Pere. Pere. Papa, please!_ He tries and fails to beg, desperate tears falling down his cheeks. The elevator has stopped. 

The man finally looks down at Adrien and frowns, closes his own eyes before taking a deep breath and walking forward. 

“It’s alright, Ade,” he says, and if Adrien could, he would sob. No. _No_. “It’s alright. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You’ll understand soon.” 

Pere continues on, murmuring platitudes like Adrien is six and afraid of the dark, not sixteen and terrified for his father’s soul. He keeps walking forward, carrying Adrien into the unknown. If the world weren’t tipping and swirling so badly, Adrien would be intrigued by the space, the large cavernous room with its own wild garden, hidden from him for who knows how long, beneath the place he called home. 

Pere finally stops, and lays Adrien upon a hard, cool surface. Adrien would shrug away from the cold seeping up his spine if he could, he would shiver and complain and open up his cuts against the rough stone-- 

An altar. His father laid him down on a fucking altar. 

The story of Abraham and Isaac comes unbidden to his mind. 

“Shh, Adrien, it will all make sense soon. You’ll see. Everything will be better. I’m going to fix it, I promised I would.” Pere smiles and wipes the tears from Adrien’s cheeks. “Come here, Briar Rose.” 

There’s a pneumatic hiss to Adrien’s left, and soft footsteps approach. 

Adrien’s heart races, skipping and thrumming like a hummingbird. 

_I’m going to die. I’m going to die. My father’s going to kill me, I’m going to--_

“Do it,” Pere says gently. Adrien’s head is tilted to the right, all he can see is Pere, the fear, the anguish on his face as he stares at the mystery before him. 

Cold, thin hands tuck under Adrien’s chin, turn him to face the stranger from the left; Adrien’s thrumming heart stops. 

000 

Maman. 

It’s Maman. 

But it’s not Maman, it can’t be Maman, Maman disappeared in Tibet three years ago, Maman is gone without a trace, without any leads or hope of being found. Maman had left one day like any other with the promise of calls tomorrow and presents from her travels before she just vanished and left Adrien behind to deal with the world alone. 

Maman is standing before him, head tilted to the side as though curious, appraising. Her green eyes, usually so like his own, usually sparkling and full of life are dull. 

“Do it,” Pere repeats. 

Maman brings up one thumb and wipes the corner of Adrien’s eye. Then, she leans down and brushes her frozen lips on his forehead, a horrible facsimile of the sweet goodnights of his childhood. 

The world turns black. 

000 

000 

000 

“Where is Adrien? He wasn’t in class this morning,” Marinette Dupain-Cheng asks, as she settles primly onto the sofa next to her mother. 

Gabriel Agreste tilts his head thoughtfully, eyes still glued to the girl’s earrings. “He’s safe at home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha remember in my other story when i tried to make you feel bad for hawkmoth??? lolol yeah no he's totally and completely a villain now. Like, bad guy. He's a really really really bad guy.


	4. "No, I am your father"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, sorry to keep you waiting so long. Got inspired again with this story. This chapter has some gross topics though, so sorry if it's not your cup of tea. I guess i'll post a warning in the end notes if you want to know about it.

_What is the real name of the man hired by Monte Cristo to pretend to be Andrea Cavalcanti?_

  1. _A)_ _Bertuccio_
  2. _B) Benedetto_
  3. _C) Debray_
  4. _D) Jacopo_



Nino circles ‘B’, and puts down his pencil for a moment, stretching his arms up and out as he runs his tongue idly over his newly cleaned teeth. His mouth tastes weirdly of mint and iron; the dentist says he needs to floss more. 

Ms. Bustier catches Nino’s eye from her desk as she eats her lunch, slight grin on her face. “Only five more minutes, Nino. Don’t forget the bonus question on the back.” Nino nods and turns back to the quiz, mindlessly pushing his glasses up his nose. 

_CRASH!_

Nino jumps up from his chair in time to see a whirl of red and black roll to a stop across the classroom from the broken window she just dove through. The linoleum floor is streaked with red stains in her wake. 

“Ma--Ladybug!” Ms. Bustier shouts, rushing from her desk and crouching down at Ladybug’s side. “Oh, my God.” Ms. Bustier’s face is white, nearly tinged green by whatever she finds. 

Nino sprints down the stairs. Ladybug is curled up on the ground, clutching something to her chest. As Nino nears, he realizes Ladybug is awake. Her blue eyes are wide and unseeing, face scarily blank behind the mask. Her breaths come and go in rasping gasps. 

“Ladybug,” Ms. Bustier whispers, voice shaking. “Ladybug, you need to let it go.” 

“Adrien,” Ladybug croaks, and Nino stops in his tracks. How does she... 

“Adrien,” she says again, shaking her head. “Hawkmoth. His dad, he’s--he did something. Something’s wrong, I have to find him, I have to--,” tears start to fall from her eyes, catching in the mask. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll help. You know I’ll help, but first I need you to let it go,” Ms. Bustier pleads. 

Ladybug nods. 

“Spots off,” she whispers, before being enveloped in a red glow. The brightness of it hurts Nino’s eyes, makes him turn away. When he looks back-- 

“Mari?” 

Ms. Bustier and Marinette look up at him, shock plain on their faces; they’d forgotten he was in the room. Marinette sits up quickly, looking down and dropping the thing she’d gripped so fiercely just a moment before, letting out a sob as it lands on the floor with a thud. 

It’s a hand. 

A bloody, severed white hand with a silver ring on one of its long, spindly fingers. 

Nino promptly leans over and pukes. 

*** 

“Nino,” Ms. Bustier says sharply as she pulls the shell-shocked Marinette away from the bloody hand and into her arms. “Nino, go get me some towels.” Nino wipes his mouth with the cuff of his jacket and complies. He stumbles to the back of the room to the sink and splashes water quickly over his face before pulling the roll of paper towels down with shaking hands. 

He stops at his desk before returning, grabs the lunchbox his mother had handed him this morning after his dentist appointment, and dumps out the food, leaving the ice packs. He finally joins Ms. Bustier and Marinette at the front of the classroom, where Ms. Bustier has pulled out an enormous first aid kit, and is carefully bandaging a large cut on Marinette’s cheek from the broken glass. 

“Thank you, Nino,” Ms. Bustier says softly, taking the towels from his hands. She leans over and uses a few to cover up the hand still resting menacingly on the floor. 

“Here,” Nino finally says, offering up his lunchbox. “I have—I have ice packs. I dunno, in T.V. shows they always say to keep it cold--,” 

Ms. Bustier takes a shuddering breath. “That’s a good idea.” She takes the lunchbox, swallows thickly, and picks up the covered hand before beginning to place it in the pack. 

“No!” Marinette suddenly yelps, reaching forward. “No, the ring, Adrien needs the ring! Tikki--,” She pleads, and a little red wisp flies out from Marinette’s collar, settles itself upon the hand, and carefully pulls off the silver ring. 

A kwami. Ladybug’s kwami. 

Marinette’s kwami. 

Holy shit. 

Nino shakes his head out before crouching down next to them. The red kwami, Tikki apparently, hovers before Marinette’s face, clutching the silver ring to their chest. 

“Where’s Plagg?” Marinette asks. The little kwami’s face falls, and they grip the ring even tighter. 

“He’s trapped, Marinette. In the ring, I don’t know how, it must be an old spell, we need--,” 

“Master Fu,” Marinette finishes quietly, and the kwami nods. “And Adrien?” 

Nino can hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the final pieces click into place. 

Adrien is Chat Noir. 

His best friend is Chat Noir. 

“I don’t know, Marinette. You heard what Mr. Agreste said--,” 

“Before he tried to rip my ears off!” Marinette shouts, burying her face in her hands. 

“What--,” Ms. Bustier whispers, hand running comfortingly on Marinette’s shoulder. 

“He’s Hawkmoth.” Marinette’s voice is barely a breath, yet it seems to echo throughout the empty classroom. “Mr. Agreste is Hawkmoth.” 

*** 

Nino was seven when he watched Star Wars for the first time. He sat on the couch, huddled between his parents, awed by the Jedi and space fights and convinced he absolutely needed a real-life lightsaber. 

What he was never particularly awed by was the revelation that Darth Vader was Luke’s father. 

“Everyone knows that!” he’d exclaimed, still watching at the edge of his seat as Leia, Luke and Lando flew off into the sunset. “That’s not a surprise.” 

“It’s only a surprise when you’re caught off-guard, sweetheart,” his father had said, ruffling his hair. “This movie is old and famous, hardly anyone is caught off-guard by the punchline anymore.” 

“What’s ‘off-guard’ mean?” 

“It means they get around your defenses, Nino,” Mom had replied, “The thing happens that you never could have even thought to expect.” 

*** 

“Fuck.” 

Marinette and Nino both look up, finally shocked out of their stupor by Ms. Bustier’s expletive. “That fucking villain. That extraordinarily twisted dick of a man. Of course, he’s fucking Hawkmoth. Sorry. Sorry, kids.” Ms. Bustier gently pushes Marinette away and abruptly stands up, walking to her desk. “We need to call the police.” 

“And say what?” Marinette stands as well. “My student just cut off Gabriel Agreste’s hand with a yo-yo because he’s Hawkmoth, but I don’t have any evidence to support it?” 

Ms. Bustier picks up her cell phone. “I’ll tell them I’m afraid for my student’s life and I have reason to believe his father is abusive.” 

“But--,” Marinette begins to respond, but she’s interrupted by a crash beyond the window. 

_WHOOSH!_

A column of flames rushes past the broken window. Nino stands up and runs as close as he dares to see outside. 

It’s a dragon. 

A great white and red dragon, thundering up the courtyard in front of their school. 

“What the--.” 

“An akuma,” Ms. Bustier says solemnly from his left as she too peers out the window. “It has to be.” 

“It’s Maman.” Nino never wants to hear that level of horror in Marinette’s voice, in anyone’s voice, ever again. “The flowers on—it's, that’s my mother. Oh, my God.” 

“Give me your earrings,” Ms. Bustier says immediately, before turning to the kwami floating at Marinette’s side. “Tikki, may I?” 

The kwami nods as Marinette steps back, covering her ears. “What?” 

“Marinette, you can’t go out there and fight your mother. You can’t. Take the ring and go with Nino to this Master Fu’s. Get Plagg. We’ll meet back here and find out what happened to Adrien.” 

“You can trust her, Marinette.” Tikki flies up and nuzzles Marinette’s neck. “You can.” 

“Ms. Bustier, I can’t ask you--,” 

“You haven’t.” Ms. Bustier interrupts firmly. “I’m offering. Go with Nino. Find Master Fu. We’ll fix this, Mari. We will.” 

Another burst of flames erupts across the windows. 

Marinette takes a shuddering breath and takes out her earrings, offering them up to Ms. Bustier, “There’s a necklace my mother always wears. That’s where I’d check for the akuma. Stay light on your feet, and don’t look down when you swing,” she advises quietly, before turning to Nino for the first time in this mess. 

“Nino, I--,” 

“I’m Carapace,” Nino yelps. Marinette and Ms. Bustier’s eyes widen. “Chat Noir, well, I guess Adrien, he gave me—yeah. I’m Carapace.” It’s small time, in terms of all the revelations the last ten minutes have brought forth, but Nino thinks they deserve all the facts. They need to know they can trust him. 

Marinette nods. “Okay. Okay, we’ll--,” She grabs the rings from Tikki, puts in on her ring finger, then clenches her hands together at her mouth, closing her eyes. Nino wonders suddenly if she’s praying. She opens her eyes quickly, and hugs Ms. Bustier, who’s already taken out her own earrings and put in Marinette’s. 

“Thank you,” she whispers to their teacher. Ms. Bustier pats her back. “Keep her safe, Tikki,” she says to the kwami as she steps back. 

“We’ll be fine.” Ms. Bustier takes a deep breath. “You two need to get on your way. Tikki, spots on.” 

Nino barely gets a glimpse of their teacher in the Ladybug costume before she’s flying out the broken window, readying herself to slay the dragon. Marinette reaches out her hand. Nino grips it back tight. 

There’s million things Nino wants to say, a million things he feels he needs to ask, and a worry for Adrien that’s nearly drowning him. The flames are growing ever closer, the crashes outside ready to burst his eardrums, but for some reason the first thing to come out of Nino’s mouth is-- 

“What do we do with Hawkmoth’s hand?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: off-screen amputation of hand
> 
> Hey, let me know what you're thinking about this. I still have the outline, and ending in mind. My heart hasn't been in this story for awhile, but I think interest is picking up again for me. I just really don't like leaving things unfinished, but I have no timeline in mind for this. Thanks for the wonderful comments, sorry to keep you hanging so long!


	5. "Your focus determines your reality"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you won't understand the end of this chapter if you haven't already read "Yesterday was plain awful". So, please read it first if you'd like to continue here. 
> 
> Anyway, hope all are safe and healthy and doing your best to keep busy. Lots happens here. Hope you're entertained!
> 
> Also, FYI, i have seen the third season on Netflix. Pretty good, but honestly getting so confusing with all the new miraculouses, and mixing miraculouses and such. Honestly, I'm just picking and choosing what I like and making stuff up. Sorry if you don't like that.

_“Such great responsibility for ones so young, Ms. Cheng, don’t you think?”_

_“Mr. Agreste, what are you--,”_

_“I’ve taken Adrien's ring as a precaution. I suggest you do the same with your daughter’s earrings.”_

_“I don’t understand.”_

_“My child is Chat Noir, Ms. Cheng. And yours is Ladybug.”_

Yours is Ladybug. 

Ladybug. 

Ladybug. 

“Marinette!” Nino pleads beside her, gripping her hand as they rush out the back door of the school. It’s obviously not the first time he’s said her name. “Marinette, where are we going? How do we get to Master Fu? Marinette?” 

Nino is panicked and wide-eyed, alternating between looking over his shoulder and staring at Marinette. 

Nino’s freaking out, Maman’s akumatized, Ms. Bustier is Ladybug, Mr. Agreste is Hawkmoth, and Adrien....oh, Adrien. 

Marinette takes a shuddering breath and shakes her head quickly. She can’t fall apart now. They don’t have the luxury of time. 

_Adrien_ doesn’t have the luxury of time. 

She takes a deep, deep breath and closes her eyes, before opening them and gripping Nino’s hand back. 

“This way,” she tells Nino firmly, before dragging him along as she sprints. “And call Alya. We’re going to need reinforcements.” 

*** 

*** 

*** 

_“Marinette is this true?”_

_“_ _Maman_ _, it’s not—I mean, I don’t--you’ve got to--,”_

_“_ Marinette _.”_

_“Give them to me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. You and Adrien have no business wielding such power. I’ll see to it--,”_

_“No.”_

_“What?”_

_“No, you can’t have her. I was chosen, she’s my gift. I was given her for a reason.”_

_“I’m sure your_ _kwami_ _will get on just fine without you.”_

_“_ _....How_ _do you know they’re called_ _kwamis_ _, Mr. Agreste?”_

*** 

*** 

*** 

“He realized I knew and lunged for me, shouted ‘Nooroo, dark wings’. I transformed and... took back the ring.” Marinette swallows thickly. She’d definitely taken more than just the ring. 

Nino glances at her from the side and tightens his grip on her hand, the innocuous lunchbox still hanging from his opposite shoulder. Marinette clears her throat again. 

Master Fu cradles Adrien’s ring in his hands, murmuring and tracing the silver outline slowly with his finger. After a few breathless moments with no change, he stops and finally looks up. 

“You said the goo remained on your shirt after you cleansed the akuma and transformed back last night?” Master Fu clenches his fingers around the ring before standing and hurrying to his cabinet, lightning some incense there. He turns back to face them and Marinette nods. 

“Yes,” she replies, remembering the glittered goop Adrien had scraped off her back before they’d finally gone to sleep. It seems a million years ago now, yet it was all less than twelve hours. Less than twelve hours for everything to go to hell. “It was weird. Never been anything left of an akuma after I cleansed it before.” 

Master Fu frowns. “I was worried this would happen.” 

“What?” 

“The ladybug and cat miraculouses have always been the most powerful. Light and dark, creation and destruction. Yin and yang. Their keepers are carefully chosen as their dedication to the cause must be absolute. For the sake of preparedness, they are the only holders given permission to keep the miraculous on their persons at all times. 

“But, as with any powerful magic, there is a price.” Master Fu continues, his voice grave. “The longer you wear your earrings Marinette, the more—blurred the line between your identities as Marinette and Ladybug becomes. Have you noticed yourself using your powers as Marinette lately? An increase in strength maybe? Better coordination? Running speeds the likes of which you’d never reached until you received your miraculous?” 

Marinette feels herself pale as she nods. “I don’t mean to. It just—it just happens.” 

Master Fu nods. “It is the reason we ask the miraculous holders not to reveal their identities. The more people who know your secret, the thinner the veil between your two halves becomes. Until, eventually your powers inevitably bleed through to your civilian self, and conversely--,” 

“My weaknesses as Marinette impact Ladybug,” she finishes softly, her eyes wide. “I was so tired last night, I hadn’t slept well all week. Do you think--,” 

“Yes. That would be enough. You are a true wielder of the Ladybug miraculous. You must be wary from now on to keep both sides of yourself well and focused. Though your powers will grow, there are now more chances to exploit both you and Chat Noir. 

“On the up side, the strength of this bond in itself provides a new fail-safe for the ladybug and cat miraculouses. Should you for some reason lose the items themselves, others will not be able to use them as you, the true holders, can. The powers belong to you alone, which is why Plagg locked himself away when he was forcibly taken from his true holder. Once the ring is returned to Adrien, he will emerge once more.” 

Marinette runs to the nearby bin and clears her stomach in short order. She stands and wipes her mouth with a shaking hand, watching Nino hide his face in his forearms as Master Fu looks on in confusion. 

“Ms. Bustier,” Nino moans, “Oh, _fuck_.” 

*** 

*** 

*** 

_“Mr. Agreste, where is Adrien?”_

_“.....”_

_“Answer me, God dammit! What did you do to him? Where is he?”_

_“_ Marinette!” 

_“_ _Nooroo_ _, dark wings.”_

_“_ _Tikki_ _, spots on!”_

*** 

*** 

*** 

Caline Bustier likes to think of herself as an active person. She wakes up early, goes on jogs by the Seine. On Saturdays she enjoys attending hot yoga class with her friends. Her father’s always said she has an exceptional resting heartrate. 

But Jesus Christ, being Ladybug is something else. 

“Good Lord, Marinette, how do you do this every day?” Caline mutters to herself, resting her hands on her knees as she leans against a chimney to catch her breath between swings. She’s sweating, heart racing and swooping with each throw of the yo-yo. Her hair is a mess, her arms burning with the intense exertion. She is absolutely exhausted. 

Yet, she’s never in her life felt so _alive._

“Where are you my darling?” The dragon’s voice roars below before she spits fire down the road. The glass in the store front windows all explode with the heat. More screams from innocent bystanders accompany each explosion. “Come out, come out, my Marinette. Maman just wants to keep you safe.” 

Luckily, every person hit by Sabine’s Cheng’s fire does not burst into flames. 

Unluckily, they’re instead immediately incased in what appear to be dragon’s eggs, which Caline has had absolutely no success in breaking open. 

She hides behind the chimney as the dragon turns the corner, peeking around her head to watch the tiny silver locket thump against Sabine’s red and white scaled chest. 

That’s where Marinette said the akuma should be. 

Caline knows the mechanics of this suit she’s put on, the power she now has. The moment she says lucky charm, she’ll have five minutes until she’s detransformed and Tikki returns. 

Five minutes to save the world. 

Jesus Christ, how does Marinette do this every day? 

“No time like the present,” Caline says finally, bracing herself. “Lucky Charm!” 

And it aches. Her arms, her legs, her chest, her head. They pulse with pain like she’s lifting the sky above. For a moment the world whites out, and Caline falls to her knees. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, as something soft and oddly hairy lands in her hands. She opens her eyes. 

It’s a wig. A black wig specifically, with two familiar pigtails already tied back. The message is clear. 

Caline hastily slips the wig on her head, straightening it out and praying to God it stays put long enough. With a deep breath, Caline waits for the still roaring dragon to come even with her chimney as it marches up the street, before finally letting the yo-yo fly. 

She feels a slight tug as the yo-yo wraps itself around antennae on the roof across the street, and gives herself a sprinting start. 

“Shit, shit shitshitshitshitshit--,” she mumbles, before letting out an aborted scream as Caline leaps from the roof, swinging wildly in front of Sabine the magic dragon. The locket, she just needs to get the-- 

“MARINETTE!” The dragon roars, swiping her long claws in Caline path. “MARINETTE, STOP!” 

Undeterred, Caline reaches her free arm as far as it will go, miraculously latching on to the relatively flimsy chain and snatching it away from the dragon’s neck. 

Slight smile on her face, Caline readies herself to land on the nearby roof and cleanse the akuma. She’s done it. She’s really, really done-- 

Sabine snaps the line with her claws. 

And Caline falls, and falls and falls, onto the street below with a sickening thud. 

“Come home, Marinette,” the dragon croaks, before sucking in air to breathe out fire once again. 

Head swimming, leg broken, ribs screaming, Caline Bustier slams the locket on the ground and reaches out with her hands to catch the sickening purple butterfly. With a painful yank, Caline rolls over to avoid the dragon’s flames and grunts as the yo-yo removes itself from the roof and lands against her aching knee. 

Without ceremony, she stuffs the akuma inside the yo-yo, and it flies away white and pure as it should be. 

Then, Caline reaches up a shaking hand and pulls the wig from her head. 

Her hand comes away covered with blood. 

“Miraculous Ladybug,” she whispers, watching in awe as the ladybugs fly forth and fix everything. 

And this is it. She did it. Caline actually did it. The dragon is turning back into a mortified Sabine Cheng, the eggs are cracking up and down the street, releasing their unwilling prisoners. The glass windows of the store fronts are flying back together and-- 

And Caline is still on the side of the road, bloody and broken, as her earrings beep menacingly. 

It didn’t work. It didn’t _work_. 

Caline passes out to the sound of Sabine Cheng’s scream. 

*** 

*** 

*** 

_THWIP. SQUELCH._

_THUD._

_"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!"_

_"Marinette!"_

_"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry."_

***

***

***

Adrien opens his eyes with a gasp, holding his pounding chest as he sits up abruptly, his head swimming. 

He’s.....he’s in his room. 

In his room, lying in bed, dressed in the same white t-shirt and grey joggers he’d worn the night before—before... 

Adrien holds out both hands and stares at them, at the long, thin fingers. Pianist’s fingers, Maman had always said. Long thin _empty_ fingers. 

His ring is gone. 

Oh God. 

“Plagg,” his whispers desperately, fruitlessly, as he jumps out of bed, checking all his regular camembert hiding places. 

They’re empty. No lingering sour smells in his desk drawer, no wrappers carelessly thrown next to the bin, no sticky little finger prints along the walls. 

Suddenly unable to breathe, Adrien lurches toward his bedside table, reaching for the phone charging there. He picks it up and crouches next to the table, sliding down the wall as he chest heaves, his shaking fingers scrolling through the contacts. 

He can’t find Marinette’s number. 

Oh _God_. 

He begins searching for Nino, for Alya, hell, for Ms. Bustier, but his still trembling hands drop the phone in front of him. His vision blurs. 

Pere is Hawkmoth. Maman is alive. Nathalie is akumatized. Plagg is missing, Marinette’s number is gone, and Adrien, he might—is he-- 

“Ade,” and unfamiliar voice says, accompanying three sharp raps on the bedroom door. “Ade, you better be dressed. You missed breakfast already, and Papa says--,” 

Adrien looks up slowly, his eyes still foggy with tears, at the figure in the now open door. She’s short and slight, with long blonde hair worn loose down her back. For a moment, Adrien thinks it could be Chloe, but this girl’s voice is calmer than his friend’s; the tone seems familiar, the nearly-remembered cadence of a happier time. 

“Adrien?” the girl questions, her worry evident as she finally walks forward and crouches at his side. A soft hand reaches toward him and squeezes his shoulder, rubbing her thumb up and down his collarbone. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” she asks softly. Adrien sniffs and rubs his eyes, blinking a few times, bringing the girl before him into full-view. 

He takes in the blonde hair, the familiar swoop of her nose. The impish, nearly lopsided mouth now pulled in a worried frown. The locket with a delicate cursive “B” on the lid, hanging at the base of her throat. The upturned blue eyes, staring straight into his soul. 

Pere’s eyes. 

“Bridgette?” Adrien croaks. 

In answer, Bridgette smiles and grabs Adrien’s hand, hauling him to his feet before pulling him into a hug. She smells like sunshine and flowers, the golden hair under his fingertips soft like spun silk. She’s breathing, heart beating, hand running up and down his back in comfort. 

She’s real. She knows him. She’s here. 

“It was just a dream, Ade,” Bridgette promises. 

Adrien buries his face in his dead sister’s hair and struggles not to cry. 

*** 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. That all happened. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> yo friends, im zipadeea on tumblr now. im also getting into the writing mode again for this story :):):) come yell at me there if you like. or don't. im good either way. Thanks for reading!


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